Nº. 1 of  82

V i v i a n S o n g

The Girl Who Stole the Eiffel Tower

Hark! She lives!
Yes, it’s been more than a month since I last posted something here, and for that I do apologize.
My excuse: I went back home for a much deserved holiday where I turned off my phone for three whole, glorious weeks and unplugged from the digital world.
It was so therapeutic and exactly what I needed (I will post more on that in another series).
I — or rather you, my lovely visitors — have a lot of catching up to do. Right before leaving for Canada, I embarked on a short day trip to Deauville and Trouville, rather posh seaside towns in the north of France.
With fall around the corner, shall we revisit summer through this series of posts, together? 

Hark! She lives!

Yes, it’s been more than a month since I last posted something here, and for that I do apologize.

My excuse: I went back home for a much deserved holiday where I turned off my phone for three whole, glorious weeks and unplugged from the digital world.

It was so therapeutic and exactly what I needed (I will post more on that in another series).

I — or rather you, my lovely visitors — have a lot of catching up to do. Right before leaving for Canada, I embarked on a short day trip to Deauville and Trouville, rather posh seaside towns in the north of France.

With fall around the corner, shall we revisit summer through this series of posts, together? 

I shamelessly and unapologetically polished off every last mussel, every last fry, and every last drop of broth from my moules-frites lunch. 
The best part is sopping up the briny, taste of the sea, shallots and garlic with crusty pieces of baguette.

I shamelessly and unapologetically polished off every last mussel, every last fry, and every last drop of broth from my moules-frites lunch. 

The best part is sopping up the briny, taste of the sea, shallots and garlic with crusty pieces of baguette.

Nº. 1 of  82
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